Louis had confessed numerous times since you guys met when you were 6, perhaps because you were filthy rich. But you don’t believe in love

Its raining, a close rainstorm. The streetlamp presents a figure, not seeming to be effected by the water pouring onto him.

Louis doesn’t turn to face you when you hold an umbrella over his head, “Remember when we first met, when I was crying on the swings?”

“You told me to buy a pony..” He finally turns to you

”But all I wanted was you..”